Smile for the cameras: technology and the ID card debate

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The 20th century French philosopher Michel Foucault observed
that citizens of modern societies could readily be organised to
police themselves. Once systems to monitor and record the behaviour
of individuals were established, governments could do away with
expensive displays of brute force. Foucault's metaphor was the
famous British Panopticon "all-seeing" prison design. Cells were
arranged in a ring around a single guard's post, which was fitted
with one-way blinds. The guard might or might not be watching, but
prisoners had to assume they were being observed at all times, and
so became their own warders. The recent proliferation of electronic
surveillance, as well as the capacity to monitor and record
billions of daily electronic transactions - from the keystrokes on
a keyboard to financial deals, credit card purchases, phone calls
or internet use - suggests the Panopticon society is upon us. There
may not be somebody watching, but most of us play by the rules
anyway.

But how far does compliance stretch? Because of the London
bombings, the Prime Minister, John Howard, wants to reopen debate
on an Australian identity card. In 1987, in the face of vehement
community opposition, this newspaper opposed the proposed Australia
Card because the then Hawke Labor government had failed to
demonstrate adequately that the benefits would outweigh the risk to
civil liberties. The national identity system had been promoted as
a means of recouping billions of dollars lost to tax evasion. But
many Australians instinctively baulked at the numbering of
citizens, fearing the system would centralise an individual's
records - tax, banking, medical, criminal, or otherwise. As such,
it would compromise privacy and could be easily abused, even by
junior public servants.

Since the September 11, 2001, attacks, the threat of terrorism
has been gnawing at the edges of civil liberties in many nations,
including Australia. The freedoms which define democracies should
never readily be surrendered. Surveillance, of the kind exemplified
in George Orwell's 1984, can only empower a totalitarian
state. That is the dark side. Foucault's surveillance societies,
however, envisaged a fairer exchange. Global networks of electronic
information mean most adults in advanced economies are already
monitored in some way every day.

In Australia, most of us willingly surrender personal
information in exchange for convenience: in EFTPOS transactions,
internet banking and credit records for example. We are also
prepared to be counted for our own security: we do not object to
numberplates or photo licences because they can single out those
who endanger us on the roads, nor to biometric passports to protect
our borders. We may complain about speed cameras, but we like
closed-circuit television cameras when they record armed robbers,
murderers or terrorists.

This should not mean a national ID card is a fait accompli. But
the extraordinary reach of information technology and the
globalised nature of security threats have so radically altered the
environment in which we live as to warrant a new debate. One thing,
however, has not changed since 1987. It is incumbent on any
government to demonstrate why a national ID card system would make
Australia a safer place - when so much information is already
available - and how it would be protected from abuse.

Sydney v Brisbane
The cities compete for business

It is tempting for Sydney's leaders to look out with
satisfaction from their office towers to sweeping views down the
harbour and to believe that nature intended this place to be
Australia's leading city, its financial capital, its cultural
heart. They should not make the mistake.

Queensland's Premier, Peter Beattie, is going to spend $4.5
million proclaiming the advantages of his state to try to lure
businesses north across the Tweed. The NSW Treasurer, Andrew
Refshauge, has scoffed at the idea, saying this state has no need
to advertise - its advantages are self-evident. Melbourne's civic
leaders used to think the same way. But the marvellous Melbourne of
the late 19th century, cocooned in wealth and complacency, had
declined by the 1950s into drab suburban mediocrity - to a point
where its tired and stifling provincialism was ripe for caricature
by Barry Humphries. Since then Sydney - scruffier perhaps, but more
attractive and energetic than the Victorian capital - has gradually
surpassed it as a centre of finance and a national focus. But Dr
Refshauge is wrong to scoff at Queensland's pretensions. There is
no law of nature which decrees this city must always hold its
position.

Certainly nature has endowed Sydney with astonishing beauty:
that is a large part of its attraction to businesses and
individuals. Perhaps too large a part. Human attempts to add to
nature's dazzling legacy have improved it only rarely. Greed and
narrowness of vision have often blighted the way the city has
developed. And the same natural advantages seem to induce a smug
inertia in our political leaders which dulls their perception of
Sydney's problems and saps their energy to tackle them.

Dr Refshauge is rightly campaigning to end the unreasonable bias
against NSW in the way GST money is divided between the states. NSW
taxpayers are footing the bill so Mr Beattie's advertisements can
crow about Queensland's lower taxes. But even if NSW received back
all the missing $3 billion it loses in GST contributions paid to
other states, would this Government know what to do with it? Other
world cities maintain their status by investing in their future
according to a consistent plan; as this newspaper has often
reported, no such plan yet exists for Sydney. It is also a mistake
to believe that only the biggest companies are worth attracting to
a city. Small and medium-sized businesses are what build the
foundation for great cities. Policies to attract business must
encourage them, too.